


better with practice

by catbeans



Series: after the breach [2]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: M/M, MRIs, Trans Hermann Gottlieb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 07:39:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14869526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catbeans/pseuds/catbeans
Summary: Hermann could see the trucks and ambulances crawling through the streets between all the rubble below them when he looked over his shoulder. The clean-up would be disastrous, he thought, when even one Kaiju and no Jaegers falling from the atmosphere could take weeks to recover from; if he squinted, he could almost make out where it had landed, Leatherback’s corpse already picked clean behind the caution tape a little ways over from the cracked dent in the cement.He didn't bother looking for Otachi.He wondered what the BuenaKai would do now, with their gods dead and gone and no more to come, if they would eventually disband or continue worshipping in Reckoner’s bones.It was easier to think about than whathewould do now.





	better with practice

Hermann had forgotten just how used to this he was until he was right back in it.

It felt like riding a bike had before he hadn't been able to do that anymore: easier with practice, but not something that was easy to forget even without.

Newt didn't seem to feel the same way.

His leg wouldn’t stop bouncing after his cuts and bruises had been dealt with and they had been ushered out of the way until their MRIs, incessantly jostling Hermann’s chair almost as much as his own, but Hermann couldn't bring himself to tell him to stop when he looked down to see Newt’s hands wringing in his lap, picking at his palm with the tips of his fingers until the skin was splotched with an angry pink.

No one seemed to be looking; Newt’s leg still kept bouncing, but his hands finally went still when Hermann reached down to link their fingers together.

Hermann was mostly just  _ bored. _

He had always had something to do in waiting rooms, a book or some work he had copied down to bring with him, homework turning to coursework turning to a work he no longer had, but he hadn't thought to bring anything with him when he and Newt had left his room to go down to medical.

They had gotten down just in time before someone was going to be sent to look for them.

He had known they were likely to be put through more scans and tests than he had needed to get in a long time, but someone coming to look for them specifically hadn't sounded particularly positive.

Newt’s hand went stiff under his own when a nurse waved them over to follow, but Hermann shook his head before Newt could say anything; that wasn't the direction of the MRIs.

They were sat down in chairs that each had one arm folded down and one snapped upright while the nurse pushed over an old rolling cart, stacked with trays of packaged needles and thick syringes. Hermann was pretty sure that the cart had been there longer than he had.

The nurse went to Newt first; Hermann could see the tension in his jaw as a band was wrapped around his arm, the fingers of his free hand tugging at a loose thread on his pants, the heel of his palm digging into his thigh while he did it like he wouldn’t be able to keep it from bouncing otherwise.

“We just need the one,” the nurse said, and Newt’s eyes squeezed shut for a second while she pressed the needle into his arm before deftly popping the syringe on.

Newt sagged against the back of the chair when she popped the syringe back off and pulled out the needle only a few seconds later.

Hermann shrugged one arm out of his jacket so he could pull the sleeve of his shirt up past his elbow, lying his arm upright on the armrest before the nurse had finished putting Newt’s syringe away.

“I’m gonna miss those easy veins,” she said as she wrapped a fresh band around his arm, swiping an alcohol swab over the crook of his elbow before reaching for another needle. “You're a vampire’s dream.”

Newt’s eyebrows shot up.

“Phlebotomists,” Hermann mouthed, turning his head back to face the nurse; he had barely noticed the needle slipping under his skin until she attached the syringe. “Only because you get it done so smoothly.”

“Always such a doll,” she mumbled, squinting at the lines on the syringe before nodding to herself, removing the syringe from the needle and the needle from Hermann’s arm. “MRIs should be ready for you soon.”

“Thank you,” Hermann said, waiting until she had stuck a bandaid on his arm and wheeled the cart away before reaching for his cane to push himself up from the chair. “It’s this way.”

Newt nodded and pulled the sleeve of his sweatshirt down over the bandaid on his own arm.

Hermann really wished it had been at least a little more crowded.

They only had to wait for another few minutes in the chairs outside the MRI room before they were given hospital gowns to change into, a small plastic box for anything metal. Newt couldn't fold up his glasses anymore with the tape holding them together, frowning at his broken watch as he put it in next to them. Hermann left for the small bathroom to change into his hospital gown first;  _ that _ part had never gotten much easier over time, the odd, disconcerting feeling that he was shedding himself along with his clothes, less a  _ doctor _ than the lines of code that made up his medical file, but Newt’s hands had been wringing in the fabric so roughly it looked like he might risk popping a seam.

Newt rushed past him without a word after he came out of the bathroom.

He didn't quite look like himself even with the hospital gown only replacing a sweatshirt and some sweatpants.

They were ushered into the next room by a haggard-looking MRI tech who looked like she couldn't have gotten more than a few minutes of sleep since the Breach had been closed, gesturing for them to lie on the patient tables peeking out from the machines before stepping into the glass room in the corner. It hadn't been easy to get ahold of two, but the Marshall--Hermann’s chest suddenly felt tight at the thought of it--had been able to pull the necessary strings to get a pair for the Jaeger teams, as he always seemed to; Hermann had never expected to be one of two people put into the scanners at the same time.

Hermann’s jaw clenched against his best efforts when he had to hand over his cane to the tech, the rest of his body just as tense to hide the limp as he carefully stepped over to the closest machine while Newt lifted himself up to the other; it wasn't having to walk even those few steps without his cane so much as it was having to give it to someone else.

“Hey,” Newt said, flicking the hem of his hospital gown a little lower on his thigh, grin not quite reaching his eyes. “Who would’ve thought we’d be in these, right?”

“If you had told me two days ago that we would,” Hermann said, shifting to try to get as comfortable as he could as he lay down, “I would have said you were fooling yourself.”

“Keep still, please,” the tech said, her voice tinny and dull through the speakers.

He saw Newt take a deep breath, and then they were slid backwards into the machines.

Hermann knew what to expect: it would be noisy, and boring, but the whirring all around him had never failed to put him to sleep even the first time when he was young and scared of both the machine itself and what it might tell him, surprisingly uneventful by the end of it.

Hermann closed his eyes once he felt the thrum under his back of the machine being turned on, and it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before the sterile-white above him went comfortably heavy and dark.

It felt like it had been no time at all once he was jolted awake by the sudden silence, squinting against the bright lights in the ceiling as he and Newt were drawn back out of the machines.

Newt looked like he was close to hyperventilating.

He bolted for the bathroom to change back into his clothes as soon as they were handed back to him, hovering by the door while Hermann quickly changed after him.

“Is that it?”

“For now, it should be,” Hermann said. “We’ll have to come back for the results.”

Newt grimaced and unsuccessfully tried to adjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose while they walked back out to the hallway.

“I gotta…” he said, pulling at the drawstring in the hood of his sweatshirt. “I need some real clothes.” 

Newt took off towards his room before Hermann could say anything, leaving him feeling oddly out of place before he adjusted his grip on his cane and left for his own.

He felt even more out of place there, which wasn't helped any by the fact that he knew he shouldn't, and  _ that _ was only made worse by the sudden realization that he would probably be packing soon.

It felt like the floor had dropped out from under him.

He sat down on the bed, out of the way of the damp patch still left over from both of them sleeping in rain-covered clothes; he looked around the room, the neatly stacked papers on his desk and the shirts hung up on pegs on the wall without any closet space, little else to make the room obviously his.

His insides twisted at the thought of where he might be next.

The room felt simultaneously claustrophobic and far too empty, somehow, like the walls would be closing in no matter how far apart they really were, the air too thick and still--

He didn't let himself think about it any longer as he pushed himself up from the bed with a strained huff and walked over to his desk.

The pack of cigarettes was still under a few papers in the top drawer that had collected since the last time he had gone to get it, a little bit crumpled, his lighter shoved to the back of the drawer.

He paused for a second before putting the lighter in his pants pocket and the pack in the inside pocket of his jacket; he hadn't really had any motivation to quit before, no expectation of having enough time for it to make a difference.

He frowned and smoothed down the front of his jacket as he went back to the door.

He had enough to think about already without having to think about that on top of it all.

When he wrenched open the door, Newt was already on the second step in a clean pair of pants and a different sweatshirt, his hand raised like he had been about to knock.

There was a vaguely rectangular lump in the pocket of his sweatshirt.

“Newton.”

“My lighter got busted,” he said, opening his mouth like he had more to say, but Hermann cut him off.

“You can use mine.”

Newt’s shoulders sagged in relief, nodding as he moved out of the way for Hermann to come down, reaching around him to close the door before Hermann could get to it.

“You really only have the one?” Hermann asked, pausing at the bottom of the steps until Newt came down to meet him.

“That thing lasted for like two years,” he said, his hand fidgeting in the pocket with the cigarettes. “I thought I was good.”

Newt was still just as uncharacteristically quiet as they walked down the hall and around a few corners for the elevator, about to take off in the wrong direction once they got out before Hermann tugged at his sleeve.

“The other one has roof access.”

“The  _ other _ one?”

Hermann nodded.

“And you've had me going up the stairs this whole time like a chump.”

“It doesn't reach the main floor,” Hermann said. “I thought you would have found it by now.”

“How did  _ you?” _

“Tendo showed me.”

“Top ten worst anime betrayals of all time,” Newt mumbled under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Newt said, gesturing towards a door on the far end of the hall. “That one?”

Hermann nodded again.

“Right there,” Newt said, “this whole fucking time.”

“If you had  _ asked--” _

“How am I supposed to know there’s more than one elevator to ask about?”

Hermann raised an eyebrow and hit the button for the elevator doors to open. “How did you think I was getting up there?”

“You're up and down a ladder all day, I don’t know--”

“They're not the same thing.”

It wasn’t long before the elevator creaked its way up to the roof. The darkness threw Hermann off, after sleeping for most of a day and still being inside for the rest of it, the sky a dark, smoggy gray rather than the lighter gray he had been expecting after waking up only a few hours earlier.

Wherever he ended up next, he hoped it would be where he could see the stars.

Hermann walked over to lean against the guardrail circling the roof, awkwardly reaching for the inside pocket of his jacket--it really would have been more convenient on the right side, that always happened whenever he was standing up--but Newt pulled his pack out of his pocket and took out two cigarettes to give one to Hermann before he managed to get to it.

“Thank you.”

Newt nodded and held his hand up by Hermann’s face to block the wind while he flicked the lighter, handing it over to Newt after it lit on the fourth try.

It took Newt almost as long to light his before he gave Hermann his lighter back, leaning against the guardrail next to him, close enough Hermann could feel his heel bouncing again.

It started bouncing a little less by the time Newt had to tap some of the ash off of the end of his cigarette.

“You know,” he said a couple taps later, smoke trailing out of his nose as he spoke before exhaling. “I kinda thought we’d all be dead by the time I'd have to worry about quitting.”

Hermann wasn't quite sure how to identify the twisty feeling that left in his chest.

It was recognition, maybe, at the same sentiment he had been thinking not long before and not being alone in it, or the discomfort around the fact that Newt had been so close to being right, so many times only over the last day or so.

Maybe both, he thought.

Probably both.

He just nodded.

Newt had only gotten about halfway through his cigarette by the time he started fidgeting again, rocking on his heels and tapping against his thigh with his free hand, close enough together that his knuckles kept brushing up against Hermann until Newt turned around to lean his forearms on the guardrail.

Hermann could see the trucks and ambulances crawling through the streets between all the rubble below them when he looked over his shoulder. The clean-up would be disastrous, he thought, when even one Kaiju and no Jaegers falling from the atmosphere could take weeks to recover from; if he squinted, he could almost make out where it had landed, Leatherback’s corpse already picked clean behind the caution tape a little ways over from the cracked dent in the cement.

He didn't bother looking for Otachi.

He wondered what the BuenaKai would do now, with their gods dead and gone and no more to come, if they would eventually disband or continue worshipping in Reckoner’s bones.

It was easier to think about than what  _ he _ would do now.

“Now what?” Newt asked, and Hermann couldn't help wondering if he had been thinking the same thing.

“Well,” Hermann said, tapping the ash off of his cigarette before taking a slow drag, “now that we’re both out of a job, I suppose I can go teach middle schoolers how many planets are actually in our solar system while you live up your newfound rock star status.”

Newt snorted halfway through exhaling and had to stifle a cough before he could say, “I'm pretty sure you'd murder someone over Pluto.”

“It’s certainly possible.”

“You're not gonna have to teach middle school,” Newt said, and he grimaced before adding, “I really took that end of the world job security for granted.”

“After  _ that,” _ Hermann said, nodding over his shoulder towards the wreckage below them, “I don’t think that’ll be much of a concern for you.”

“You did that, too.”

Hermann shrugged. “It was your terrible idea.”

“And it would have been terrible  _ and _ pointless if you hadn't saved my ass twice,” Newt said. “You were the one who figured out how many there were gonna be.”

“And you didn't believe me.”

“You didn't believe me either,” Newt said, his voice growing rushed and shaky.

“And you almost  _ died--” _

“But I was right.”

He didn't have to tap the ash away with the way his hand had started to shake.

“At least you've got your astrophysics,” Newt said a couple minutes later. “Kaiju biology isn't really gonna do a whole lot without any Kaiju.”

Hermann was about to point out that with six PhDs and an averted apocalypse, Newt would hardly have any trouble finding one job or another, but he realized it wasn't really that as soon as he had opened his mouth.

Both of them were suddenly without the driving force behind their careers and a good portion of their education.

Hermann figured he could buy himself a couple seconds to put together a response with another short drag from his cigarette, but the words he had hoped for weren't coming; there was a feeling more than a thought, building up in his chest until it spilled over in a rushed, “Stay with me.”

Newt’s eyes were wide when he turned his head to face him. “What?”

“There's nothing to keep us here,” Hermann said, his heart starting to hammer in his chest; he was hardly sure of what he was saying until he had already said it. “And there's not going to be anywhere for us to be stationed.”

Newt’s mouth opened and shut a couple times without any words.

“We’ve already done this together,” he continued, gesturing from over the edge of the guardrail and back towards the Shatterdome. “I don’t see any reason not--”

“Are you serious?”

In a split second of hesitation, Hermann’s mind raced from  _ too much shouldn't have said anything that was wrong _ to the realization that it looked like Newt was holding his breath, his cigarette forgotten about, before he said, “Completely.”

“You mean, like…” Newt trailed off, his eyes darting down towards Hermann’s lips so briefly that he wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been looking so closely. “Or--”

“Yes,” Hermann said. “If you wanted to.”

Newt’s eyes went impossibly wider.

It looked like he was frozen in place, pulling in a deep breath that he  _ had _ been holding, Hermann was right--

“I’ve gotten a bit more used to your company than I would have expected,” Hermann said, dropping his cigarette to snub out with the tip of his shoe to free up his hand to reach for Newt’s; his fingers twitched before linking loosely with Hermann’s. “I would like to keep that.”

There was only the faint  _ hiss _ of Newt’s cigarette falling to a puddle before his arm was around Hermann’s waist, his lips tasting faintly of smoke and toothpaste, and for all Newt had practically yanked him forward that last few inches between them, it was so  _ soft, _ almost tentative, like he hadn't been expecting any of the last part of their conversation.

Hermann couldn't truthfully say he had expected it either; there had been none of the planning or forethought that he put into every other part of his life, always putting necessity and reason above what he might personally  _ want  _ and doing so very, very carefully, but this--

It might not be based in reason, but there was no question in his mind about its necessity.

Newt leaned his forehead against Hermann’s when he pulled back just enough for a quick breath, his arm still tight around Hermann’s waist when he said, “You're serious.”

_ “Yes, _ I said yes.”

Newt’s shoulders sagged with a release of tension Hermann hadn't realized he had been holding before leaning in to kiss him again.

They didn't break away even when they stopped, their noses still touching even once their mouths weren't; Newt let out a deep breath before burying his face against Hermann’s neck, his fingers gripping at the back of Hermann’s jacket when Hermann moved his free arm snug around Newt’s shoulders.

“This is so fucked up,” he mumbled.

“You'll have to be a bit more specific.”

Newt let out a huff that sounded like something close to a laugh. “We stopped the end of the world,” he said, his breath tickling Hermann’s neck, but Hermann refused to budge. “We  _ did that, _ we--this whole time--and now it’s  _ over, _ why…”

Hermann frowned into a quick kiss to the top of his head.

“Why does it feel so  _ shitty?” _

There were too many reasons for Hermann to have an easy time picking out one.

“We have put quite a bit of time into this,” Hermann said, moving his hand from Newt’s shoulder to the back of his head, rubbing his fingertips over the base of his skull. “It’s not unheard of.”

However untethered they both might feel, Hermann found some comfort in the fact that they could be untethered together--it was still setting in exactly what he had asked, what Newt had agreed to, the  _ relief _ of not being alone in an experience no one else had shared--and he could only hope Newt found some of that, too.

The guilt at feeling so lost felt a little less sickening at the thought that it wasn't just him feeling it.

Hermann couldn't tell how long it had been of the two of them just standing there before he felt Newt shiver, winding his arms a little tighter around Hermann’s waist before he said, “It’s fucking freezing out here.”

Hermann was about to point out that he had only come out in a thin sweatshirt when he realized that he couldn't think of the last time he had seen Newt in a jacket that wasn't now torn almost to shreds.

He really should have thought to bring his coat with him.

“Come on,” he said, squeezing at Newt’s shoulder before letting go for his hand. “It looks like it’s about to rain anyway.”

“It always looks like it’s about to rain,” Newt said. “We gotta go where we can actually see the sky, it’s been, like...years, Christ.”

Hermann froze just long enough for Newt to turn back to look at him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said. “I would like that very much.”

Their hands slipped apart once they reached the door to the elevator so Newt could yank it open. The ride down to their rooms was quiet, Newt wordlessly fidgeting with a loose thread on his sweatshirt, and Hermann had started to expect the same silence for the rest of the way until he felt the backs of Newt’s fingers brush up against his, his eyes on Hermann when Hermann glanced up at him.

Neither of them had to say anything before they both leaned in at the same time.

Newt’s hand moved up from Hermann’s to his hip, tugging him a little closer until he could feel the zipper of Newt’s sweatshirt against his chest, warm even through the couple layers of fabric; it wasn't slow and hesitant like before, but still just as soft, even when Newt’s breath hitched at Hermann’s free hand coming up to cup the back of his neck, his fingers twitching at Hermann’s waistband.

Hermann had only meant to lean back against the wall of the elevator to take some of the weight off of his legs, reluctant to pull away even for a second, but Newt stumbled into him with a soft, almost needy sound, his hips bumping up against Hermann’s. Hermann’s hand slipped down from the back of his neck, grabbing at the front of Newt’s sweatshirt before down to the small of his back, nudging him impossibly closer, and he really would have liked to have a second free hand--

The elevator  _ dinged _ with just enough warning for Newt to jerk back before the doors opened again, his cheeks flushed pink and his hair sticking up at the back before he cleared his throat and unsuccessfully tried to smooth it down.

The halls were only slightly less empty than they had been before when Newt and Hermann had first woken up in Hermann’s bed, the handful of people they passed all looking just as worn out as Hermann felt; he felt almost out of place at the thought that for all the work that still needed to be done, and  _ so much, _ there wasn't really any for him to do anymore.

Newt’s hand kept brushing up against his as they walked back towards their rooms.

Hermann didn't think before following Newt to his; it didn't need to be said, the thought of going back to their separate spaces not even crossing his mind. Newt held his arm out a few inches for Hermann to lean on on his way up the steps, the exhaustion still weighing down his body almost as much as when he had first woken up. 

“I am never living anywhere with stairs again for the rest of my life,” Hermann muttered, but even the heaviness through his limbs wasn't enough to cover the spark of warmth in his chest when Newt dropped his arm at his side only to squeeze Hermann’s hand before opening the door. “Which Category 5 decided to make an appearance here?”

_ “Yeah, _ sorry, I’m gonna have to put that dissection on hold, my mom needs me to clean my room because we’re having company, can’t let anyone know we--”

“There's  _ mold _ on--”

“I was gonna throw that out,” Newt said, closing the door and stepping past him to toss the half-eaten bagel covered in what used to be cream cheese into the bin under his desk, “if I hadn't gotten  _ kinda _ busy.”

Grabbing the pile of clothes from his bed to dump on a chair didn't do much for his argument, and neither did the fact that it took all of two seconds to throw out his trash, but pointing that out fell to a lower priority than being able to sit down again.

It still felt like he could sleep for a week even after sleeping for most of a day.

Newt sat down next to him, the thin mattress bouncing as he scooted back to lean against the wall, close enough that their knees were touching once Hermann had propped up his cane by the bed and gotten settled again. Even with the mess--and there really was  _ so _ much of it--and the cramped, impersonal space only made personal by the posters and old pictures stuck to the wall, Hermann suddenly couldn't help thinking that it felt like more of a home than his room ever had through all his years of working with the PPDC, even if it wasn't really much of one.

He hadn't thought of what he would do with a space that was truly his own, hadn't had much reason to with work being his only foreseeable future, but he would have to now, he realized.

“I swear it’s not usually this bad,” Newt said.

_ “Really.” _

“No.”

Newt’s expression was meltingly warm when Hermann looked up at him.

“I’m not cleaning this up.”

Newt huffed a laugh, his Adam’s apple bobbing on a thick swallow, his hand inching towards Hermann’s.

He wasn't talking about that mess in particular; he hoped Newt could tell.

Hermann was sure that he had had something else to say, but whatever words might have come out froze up when he looked up at Newt, Newt’s eyes already on his.

“You need new glasses.”

It definitely hadn't been that.

Hermann decided leaning in to kiss him was the best way to keep Newt from pointing out how painfully obvious that was.

Newt’s breath hitched before he started kissing him back. He shifted to face Hermann more straight-on, finally moving his hand up from between them to Hermann’s waist. 

With no elevator doors to interrupt them, Hermann couldn't bring himself to stop, couldn't see any reason to; he couldn't tell how long it was before his neck started to feel stiff at the angle he had to hold himself at to keep kissing Newt, but Newt followed when Hermann tried to pull back to get more comfortable, the shift knocking Hermann off balance to tumble flat to the bed before he could catch himself.

“Sorry--”

“Come here,” Hermann said, reaching up to Newt’s shoulder to pull him down with him.

Newt let out a slow breath as he propped himself up above Hermann; they both had to shuffle around for a few seconds before getting comfortably settled with Hermann’s legs on either side of Newt’s, skin-tingling kisses pressed all along his neck and up to his jaw before Newt moved up the last couple inches to kiss him. Hermann barely noticed the clatter of Newt’s glasses being knocked to the floor.

For all that he was supposed to be  _ smart, _ and all those years together, all the arguing and shared meals and letters and the crushing disappointment of their first time meeting in person, Hermann really couldn't tell how it had taken until finding Newt in a seizure on the floor of the lab to realize this.

He couldn't help winding his arms snug around Newt’s waist at the thought of it, gripping tight at the back of his sweatshirt. There was so much time to make up for, so close to not having the chance to, if he had taken any longer before finding him; that made his chest ache, the thought of only realizing the culmination of all that time together too late, the thought that he would be dead, too, if he hadn't found Newt in time. They all would be.

There was more of a desperation to the kiss then, like Hermann hadn't been the only one on that train of thought; Newt held himself up with his forearm braced on the bed by Hermann’s shoulder, his free hand palming down Hermann’s side to knead at his hip, his thumb rubbing along where Hermann’s shirt was tucked into his waistband.

The hint of desperation tipped over into something more at that.                                                                                                                                        

Hermann’s hands slipped down from the back of Newt’s sweatshirt to his hips, bending his knees a little higher so his thighs were snug against Newt’s. He felt Newt’s breath hitch again before dipping down to kiss Hermann’s jaw, down to his neck, his hips twitching forward before he tensed slightly and eased back.

It wasn't just Hermann, then.

“Newton,” he said quietly, biting back a whine at the faint feeling of Newt’s teeth against his skin for just a second before kissing back up to his jaw.

The flush was back on Newt’s cheeks when he pulled up a few inches.

Hermann’s eyebrows twitched upwards, his thumbs at Newt’s waistband; he didn't need to ask before Newt nodded, biting his lip before ducking down to kiss him again, barely pulling away at all to say, “I don’t have--”

Hermann shook his head, his  _ it’s alright _ muffled in another kiss.

Newt shifted above him, moving his hand from Hermann’s hip, up towards the front of his pants. Newt didn't have to ask either before Hermann nodded, spreading his legs a little wider for Newt to start unbuttoning his fly.

“These fuckin’...” Newt mumbled, kissing below Hermann's jaw before sitting back to straddle his thighs so he didn't have to bend his wrist so awkwardly.

Hermann missed the warmth on top of him in the few seconds it took for him to realize that this made it easier for him, too; Newt was already hard when he reached up past Newt’s hand to palm at the front of his pants, his hips jerking forward again with a soft groan.

Hermann had only just gotten started on Newt’s fly when Newt’s hand suddenly slipped down the front of his pants, not pausing for a second before he started circling his fingers over Hermann’s clit. It took a few seconds for him to collect himself enough to pull Newt’s zipper down, his fingers slipping a couple times before he managed to get to Newt’s dick.

Newt’s fingers twitched over Hermann’s clit when Hermann started pumping his wrist, sliding his free hand up Newt’s thigh to rest at his hip with encouraging little tugs each time Newt rocked forward into his hand. Newt kept moving his fingers over Hermann’s clit in quick, tight circles in time with Hermann’s hand on his dick, but it wasn't long before it started to feel like something was missing, not just the thought of doing this with more than just their hands.

“Newton,” Hermann murmured, biting back a groan when Newt started rubbing at his clit with a little more pressure. “Come h--”

He didn't get to finish his sentence before Newt almost toppled forward in his rush to lean down to kiss him, bracing his hand by Hermann's head; his knees clamped snug at Hermann’s sides with a needy whine when Hermann moved his hand from Newt’s dick, tilting his head back just out of reach for Newt to keep kissing him.

Newt’s hand went still, his eyes wide when he pulled back a few inches. It looked like he was about to stop, must have misread it, that wouldn’t do; his eyes only went wider when Hermann dragged his tongue across his palm, ignoring how incredibly crude it must have looked before reaching for Newt’s dick again.

That was it.

_ “Oh, _ my god--” Newt gasped, his forehead dropping against Hermann’s shoulder before he pushed himself up again a few inches, right back to working at Hermann’s clit.

Hermann couldn't help shuddering at the kisses pressed along his neck before Newt sat fully upright again. Newt untucked the rest of Hermann’s shirt with his free hand, fumbling to open the buttons until he could lean down to kiss along Hermann’s chest, flattening his fingers over Hermann’s clit as he started rubbing a little faster.

Hermann hummed low in his throat, sliding his hand up from Newt’s hip, up his back to tangle in his hair. He couldn't remember how long it had been with just himself, and the difference between Newt’s fingers and his own was nothing short of divine, his hips jerking up into Newt’s hand as much as he could with Newt on top of him.

Newt’s fingers went still for a second before dipping just a little lower, the top of his head bumping Hermann’s chin as he leaned up a few inches.

“Do you--?”

“Yes,” Hermann said, more of a plea to his tone than he had intended, but Newt just groaned as he leaned in to kiss him again before bending his wrist to slip two fingers into him.

Newt nipped at Hermann’s bottom lip on his way up to sit up straight again, shifting back slightly so his arm was at an easier angle to start slowly pumping his fingers, a slight twist to his wrist before Hermann couldn't stifle a moan when Newt started rubbing his thumb over his clit.

Newt kept rocking into the ring of Hermann’s fingers, bracing his free hand by Hermann’s side, gripping tight at the sheets as he started rubbing at Hermann’s clit a little faster.

“You can--” Hermann started to say, but his head dropped back to the mattress with a low groan when Newt pulled back just enough to slip his ring finger in with the first two. It took him a few seconds before he managed to start moving his hand over Newt’s dick again, the warm, buzzing feeling spreading through him from Newt’s fingers, a buffer between the aches through his joints. He wanted  _ more, _ wanted Newt on a good day, without having to focus through the bone-deep exhaustion and the crushing heaviness that felt like it was holding his whole body down.

He felt Newt’s dick twitch in his palm, biting back a whine as his hips jerked forward, his fingers stuttering over Hermann’s clit before he started moving his hand faster at the same time as Hermann did.

“Hermann,” Newt panted, his free hand shifting from the sheets a little closer to Hermann’s shoulder; his fingers slowed for a second, only until Hermann swiped his thumb over the head of Newt’s dick before rubbing at his clit with a little more pressure. “You meant it?”

It took a second for Hermann to realize what he was asking about, and then another to push down the brief flash of  _ how many times do I have to say it _ before he realized it would probably be a few; he had felt it plain as day the night before--two nights, now, they really had slept for that long--the loneliness hidden behind all the outgoing chatter and the distance Newt kept to avoid someone else putting it up first, the years of isolation surrounded by people so much older than him before he was thrown into a career with no time to catch up, so much like Hermann had been.

“Yes,” Hermann said, squeezing at Newt’s knee with his free hand, sliding up his thigh to squeeze his hip. “I want you to stay with me.”

Newt’s breath hitched, his fingers twitching inside Hermann before he curled his fingertips  _ just so, _ deeper than Hermann could manage himself, and he couldn't keep down another moan before he continued.

“I want to wake up with you,” he said, and he really hadn't meant to, maybe a bit much, but Newt biting his lip didn't do enough to keep down a soft whine even before Hermann held his hand a little tighter around Newt’s dick. “Not all bloody.”

Newt’s almost startled laugh trailed off into a groan.

“No one else would--”

Hermann wasn't sure how to finish that; no one else would understand, too many things to list, no one else had that history, no one else he had spent all that time with.

He moved his hand up from Newt’s hip to tug him down by the front of his sweatshirt to kiss him in place of trying to find the words that could adequately express all of that.

Newt made a soft, needy sound muffled against Hermann’s lips, leaning more of his weight on his knees for more leverage to rock into his hand, his fingers twitching again before he broke the kiss with a gasp and ducked down to kiss Hermann’s neck.

_ “Oh, _ Newton,” Hermann whispered, moving his hand up to Newt’s hair from where he had still been gripping the front of his sweatshirt; he didn’t manage to stifle a groan at the spark of Newt’s teeth catching at the curve of his neck when he gave Newt’s hair a light tug, tilting his head back for Newt to keep kissing him.

Newt’s voice cracked on a moan, his hips jerking forward when Hermann slipped his hand down to tangle in the back of his hair; his fingers went still over Hermann’s clit for a second, and that was the only warning Hermann got before Newt gasped,  _ “God, _ Hermann--”

Hermann wasn't immediately sure how he felt about the mess slowly dripping from his fingers and onto his belly, probably his shirt, too; he felt like he should probably be bothered by it, always bothered by everything else Newt had gotten on him over the years, but if he hadn't already been close before, he was now.

He hadn't really expected that.

He let go of Newt’s dick to grab for his wrist a little more frantically than he had intended when Newt started to pull his hand back.

“Don't.”

He felt Newt let out a deep breath against his neck, easing his fingers back into him. Newt had only pulled away to his lowest knuckles before Hermann had stopped him, and he barely pulled back anymore, pumping his wrist and curling his fingertips without letting up on Hermann’s clit.

Hermann’s legs started to tremble under Newt’s thighs, his hips twitching up into Newt’s fingers. Newt still hadn't stopped mouthing along his neck, his skin tingling under Newt’s lips; it felt like all at once that he started to come, impulsively pulling at Newt’s hair again, Newt biting down at the curve of his shoulder just above his collar with a whine, the sensation suddenly feeling so much  _ bigger. _

Newt kept rubbing at Hermann’s clit even once his fingers went still inside him, pressing light kisses up to his jaw until the feeling like Hermann might shake himself apart started ebbing away, leaving him feeling loose and floaty until he had to nudge at Newt’s wrist when it started edging towards too much.

He had almost forgotten the come on his belly until a little bit got on his sleeve.

Newt dragged his fingers flat over Hermann’s clit as he pulled his hand away, leaning back on his knees above Hermann, his hair sticking up at all angles when Hermann’s hand slumped from the back of his head.

Hermann could see Newt’s shoulders lift on a deep breath when he glanced down.

“That's…” he said quietly, biting his lip before leaning down to kiss him, and Hermann’s breath hitched when he felt Newt’s fingertips trailing below his belly button, leaving his skin feeling tacky and warm.

Newt pulled away a few seconds later--even with the mess, Hermann almost wished that he hadn't--to lift himself up from Hermann’s lap, stumbling for a second on his way to his desk to find some tissues.

“I got a shirt you can borrow, hold on.”

Hermann just nodded; he could hardly be bothered to care, his whole body feeling delightfully fuzzy, the aches put on hold even for just a short while. His chest felt tingly and warm as he cleaned off his hand and his belly, pushing himself up just far enough to toss the tissues into the small trash bin before slumping back down to the bed.

Newt came back a few seconds later with an old, buttery-soft Jurassic Park shirt he had taken from one of the handful of piles scattered around the room.

Hermann found himself already knowing that it was the clean pile.

He sat up again to take off his shirt and his jacket, folding them by the foot of the bed more out of habit than anything else; he would need to wash them anyway now, but the thought disappeared from his mind when Newt sat down next to him as he pulled the shirt on over his head.

“Sorry.”

“It’s hardly the first time you've made a mess of my clothes.”

“I mean,” Newt said, scooting a little closer until their thighs were touching, “I’m  _ pretty _ sure this time isn't toxic.”

“Not staining my shirt blue is still an improvement.”

Hermann looked up at Newt just before Newt looked up from his lips.

“You should ditch the grandpa look more often.”

“I’m not going to do that,” Hermann said, just before leaning in to kiss him, but it was only partially true--even just alone with Newt, at  _ home, _ he thought, not managing to stifle a smile at that--if Newt was going to keep lending him his shirts.

**Author's Note:**

> @hermannsgayhands on tumblr!


End file.
